From the Moment We Met
by Elphie Bubble
Summary: I don't think there are enough MoJo fics out there, so here is my version of how Maureen and Joanne met. Premovie. MarkMaureen in the beginning, then MoJo.
1. Chapter 1

This story has been sitting in the back of my mind for a while, begging to be written. I got so sick of telling it to shut up that I just gave in and started writing it. At the moment, I'm not sure how long this story will be, but I know it will be at least a few chapters. This is my first RENT fic, and I'm quite excited about it. It may be some time between updates because I'm drowning in stress right now, but reviews, good or bad, will certainly brighten my day. I only ask that you please not flame. Thanks!

**Disclaimer:** My writing, but not my characters.

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Joanne Jefferson gathered her things together, loosened her tie, and left her cramped office with a sigh. Work had been determinably bad today. At least she could go down to the Life Café, get a drink, and nurse it all evening in a gloomy corner of the restaurant. Maybe if she stared into the beaker long enough, she could drown herself in it.

Maureen Johnson skipped from her small apartment, messy, handwritten scraps of paper clenched in hand. She hurried to the apartment her boyfriend, Mark Cohen, shared with his best friend, Roger Davis. She pounded on the door, and, when her bangs went unheeded, she called them on her cell phone. All she was met by were several long, empty rings and the answering machine's dissonant "Speakkkk." She left a quick message, and then, remembering she had a key, let herself in. The apartment was, unsurprisingly, devoid of life. She made her way to the flashing answering machine and played back her own impatient recording.

"Mark? Pookie, are you there?" said her voice, full of static on the machine. "I was just thinking we could go to the Life Café. I have a new protest to show you. I hope you aren't ignoring me, Pookie, because I'm coming in." She pressed the Delete button. Well, she thought grumpily, she could still go to the Life and get a drink…or two.

Knowing the walk to the café was far too long from her office building, especially in heels, Joanne caught a taxi. She sat in the backseat and stared out the window. She wondered why the people she worked with were such jerks. Plus, the law firm was being audited. When at last she reached the café, she paid the taxi driver and made her way into the smoky restaurant. She picked a small table in a corner where she could quietly and effectively efface herself and bought a beer. She rather wished she had run home first to change into something more comfortable than slacks and suspenders.

Maureen, living much closer to the Life, simply walked, grinning when she got a wolf whistle. When she got there, she immediately plopped down at a table full of people she'd never met, introduced herself, and ordered a drink. Before long, she was totally drunk. After singing several loud renditions of "The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" with her new and somewhat reluctant friends, she jumped up on the table and launched into her newest protest, a ballad promoting the rights of minority groups.

Joanne watched the woman's antics from her table, slightly amused. The head waiter had just come over to try to get her off the table, but she just leaned down, grabbed him by the ears, and kissed him on the lips. He threw his hands in the air and stalked back to the kitchen. Maureen chose to get down of her own volition a moment later, and, to Joanne's surprise, plunked down in front of her.

"Hi!" she said brightly, only slurring her words a little, "I'm Maureen."

"Hello, Maureen. I'm Joanne. You have a beautiful voice," Joanne said, referring to the singing Maureen had done on the tables.

"Thanks," Maureen said with a grin before she downed another drink that was no more a virgin than she was. "I like your earrings!" she exclaimed, going so far as to lean over and touch them.

Joanne wondered if Maureen was just being friendly or was hitting on her. She decided she wouldn't mind the latter. The girl was cute.

The door to the café opened and Joanne barely had time to blink before the girl in front of her became a curly-haired projectile launched at the skinny, pumpkin-headed man that had walked in. She nearly bowled him over. "Marky!" she cried.

"You're drunk," 'Marky' said, although he had gathered this from the alcohol on her breath. Her way of greeting him was quite customary.

"Where were you, Pookie? I wanted us to come here together, but you weren't home," she pouted.

"I was out trying to get some decent film. I don't know where Roger was."

Roger, a recovering drug addict who fit the rock star mold, chimed in, "I was on the roof working on a new song."

"Any luck?" she asked both of them.

"Nope," they said simultaneously.

"Well," Mark said, "We just came to see if you were here. Have you eaten?"

Maureen nodded. "We can go to my place if you want. We could watch a movie or something." She winked when she said 'or something.'

Joanne sighed, a little disappointed. Maureen had a boyfriend. Even so, after Roger had left to go back to his apartment, and Maureen and Mark were turning to go to hers, Maureen winked at Joanne, pointed at her table, held up five fingers, and mouthed 'tomorrow.' Maybe there's hope yet, Joanne told herself.

The next day seemed to crawl by for Joanne who kept wondering whether Maureen really would show up at the Life or not that evening. For Maureen, the day was carefree. She didn't even remember her promise until four o' clock, and then it was just a simple matter of getting ready and telling Mark she couldn't dinner with him because she felt ill.

"Well, I hope you don't mind, but I'm not going to come care for you. I swear I'm a germ magnet," he had said. She had laughed but managed to turn it into an overly dramatic whimper just in time.

"It's ok, Pookie. I don't want you sick too," she had said while grinning to herself on the success of her plan thus far. At ten till, she headed down to the café, planning to be fashionably late.

Joanne, for whom punctuality was key, began to fidget in her seat when her watch read one after. To her, fashionably late meant only fifteen minutes early instead of thirty. She immediately began to suspect that she had been stood up, and had pretty much given up all hope when Maureen finally walked in. She quickly spotted Joanne and slid into the booth with her. She was just about to open her mouth when a waitress bustled over.

"What cin Ah git fer you girls?" she asked in an overdone southern accent that was as fake as the beauty mark on her plump cheek.

"Well, Ah'll have a hamberger," said Maureen with an even more affected southern accent, "And a beer."

Joanne, who didn't care to carry on the trend, said simply, "I'll have a coffee, please."

The waitress nodded and left to get their orders.

"Why didn't you order any food?" Maureen asked curiously.

"Not hungry," Joanne said. This wasn't entirely true; her stomach was just too busy with all the butterflies to make room for greasy food. "Besides, coffee _is_ my food." This was more true.

Maureen grinned. "I hope you don't mind if I eat."

"No, not at all," Joanne said dismissively. "So…uh, why did you invite me here? Don't you have a boyfriend?"

"Oh, Mark? No, we're just close friends," Maureen lied blithely.

Joanne raised her eyebrows but didn't call her out on it.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two! Yay! Please R&R!

**Disclaimer:** (Insert clever way of saying that the characters don't belong to me.)

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"We need to get to know each other better," Maureen said, "I know! Let's ask each other ten questions each. I'll think of one to ask you, and then you ask me the same question after you've answered, and then you come up with one."

Joanne nodded. "Why don't you go first?"

"Ok. What is your full name?" Maureen asked.

"Joanne Jane Jefferson."

"Wow, lot of Js," Maureen commented.

"Yeah, my mom wanted to start a new tradition." Joanne made a face, "Ok, what's your full name?"

"Maureen Eva Johnson. Ok, your turn to make up a question!" Maureen said.

"Ok. Um, what's your favorite color?" Joanne asked, feeling stupid.

"Red. You?"

"I like blue, I guess," Joanne said, realizing for the first time that the majority of her outfits were blue.

"Let's see….What kind of music do you like?" Maureen asked.

"Well, I usually just listen to classical and opera," Joanne said.

"I like all music," Maureen giggled.

"What is your favorite pet that you ever had?" Joanne asked, warming up to the game.

"Well, I've always lived in apartments that had codes against animals, but I once named a pigeon George," Maureen told her. They both laughed at that.

"Don't feel bad. My parents wouldn't let me have anything but a goldfish once. He died before I could even think of a name for him, so I never tried to raise another fish. Or anything else, for that matter."

"What do you do when you are feeling sad?" Maureen asked.

"I go home and take a nap," Joanne said, "If that doesn't work, I drink a coffee. If _that_ doesn't work, I get a beer." She laughed, "What about you?"

"I eat cereal and watch classic Disney movies," Maureen admitted.

"What's your favorite movie?" Joanne asked, building on her answer.

"I like The Sound of Music," Maureen said, demonstrating by singing a verse of My Favorite Things loudly.

"I don't really have one," Joanne said, "I don't watch many movies. Probably Fatal Attraction if I had to pick one."

"What do you do for a living?"

"I'm a lawyer," Joanne said.

"I'm not really employed, but I do protests in my performance space over on Avenue D."

"What did you want to be when you were little?" asked Joanne.

"A performer. You know, a Broadway star and the works," Maureen said with a chuckle.

"I always wanted to be a lawyer," Joanne said, "Sometimes I wish I had picked something less stressful."

"Do you like to sing?" Maureen asked.

"Not when anyone is watching," Joanne laughed.

"Well, you know I do," Maureen said with a smile, "Last question!"

"Hmm, what is your orientation?" Joanne finally worked up the nerve to ask the question she had been dying to ask since the very beginning.

"I keep my options open. I'm bisexual," Maureen told her. Joanne could almost hear the hallelujah chorus.

"I'm a lesbian," she said, realizing it was one of the first times she had ever used the word in relation to herself.

Their waitress walked up with their food balanced on one hand held high above her head. She unloaded the hamburger and beer first and gave them to Maureen, and then handed the coffee to Joanne.

"Ok, huns, y'all just eat up now," she told them before going back to the kitchen.

Joanne, feeling an awkward silence coming on, hid by sipping on her bitter coffee.

Maureen, not one to allow awkward silences, said out of the blue, "Let's dance!"

"What? We just got our foo--" Joanne was cut off by Maureen grabbing her hand and dragging her into the space that had been cleared for dancing. Joanne remembered that it was Tuesday night with a sigh. On weeknights local bands and singers came in and performed. A group of young men had just climbed onto the small stage and were beginning a rock song.

Maureen managed to get Joanne onto the dance floor, but as far as Joanne was concerned, she couldn't make her dance. Maureen, on the other hand, started dancing immediately, showing an energy and an apathetic attitude to what others thought of her that Joanne wished she possessed.

Other than Maureen and Joanne, the dance floor was unoccupied, and Joanne was feeling stupider by the moment. Maureen's dance was wild and crazy, but Joanne was just standing there, trying to make herself disappear. Maureen's excitement was so contagious that, in moments, the dance floor had filled.

Maureen's dancing had turned very provocative and she tried to get Joanne to join the fun, but Joanne would not be moved, despite Maureen's attempts and the people dancing all around her.

Finally, Maureen lost interest in her and started dancing with a very willing man. Joanne, sensing her chance of escape, hurried back to their table and drank her coffee.


	3. Chapter 3

All right, may I introduce you to Chapter Three? I promise that updates will be closer together soon. I have midterms this week, and I'm stressing more than can be healthy. Plus, I'm sick. Once Christmas break starts, I'll have more time to write. Hopefully. This is a rather boring chapter, but it is mostly just a connection chapter. Please review!

**Disclaimer:** I do not own these characters. Nor do I rent them. But borrowing them is okay as long as you return them before anyone misses them, right?

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Joanne, who was disappointed that the evening had started so nicely and ended on a sour a note for her, wasn't particularly upset when it came to an end. Still, she had to admit that Maureen was very cute when she was drunk.

"Oh, Joanne! Do you have to go? We were having so much fun!" hiccupped Maureen, obviously forgetting that Joanne had spent the second part of the date merely sitting quietly at the table.

"Yes, Maureen, I have to go. I have work in the morning," Joanne told her patiently for the third time and counting.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay? You don't _have_ to go to work," Maureen told her.

Joanne wasn't about to miss work unless she had the plague. She shook her head, thanked Maureen for the evening, and started to leave. Maureen grabbed her by the hand, swung her around, and kissed her much too hard for someone she had only met. But then, that was the appeal of Maureen. Joanne, very surprised, hurried away before she would let herself give in to Maureen's offer.

Maureen awoke the next morning with a terrible headache, and her tongue seemed several times larger than it should have been. She closed her eyes and tried to remember what had happened the night before. She remembered going to The Life with that girl. Maureen struggled for a moment before she remembered the girl's name. Joanne. She dimly remembered getting drunk and walking home very late last night, or possibly this morning. She covered her head with a pillow to put off the inevitable moment when she would have to get up. The phone on her bedside table rang, and Maureen winced. Why did everything have to be so damn loud? She picked it up, if only to silence the ringing.

"Humph?" she asked into the receiver.

"Maureen?" came Mark's voice.

"Humph."

"What's wrong?"

"Humph!"

"Are you hung over?" he asked, concerned but not surprised.

"Humph." she said, wishing she would learn her lesson when it came to alcohol.

"Well, I was checking to see if you felt better since you were sick last night," he said accusingly.

Maureen was silent, but inside she was saying "Oh crap."

"Maureen Johnson. You weren't really sick, were you?"

"Humph…" she said sheepishly.

Mark sighed. Maureen hated how disappointed he sounded. "Who did you go out with?"

Maureen found her voice. "No one! I just started feeling better last night and went down to The Life. I guess I got drunk. I wouldn't cheat on you, Pookie."

"Well, OK," Mark said, far from sounding convinced. "Look, just get some rest. Maybe you can sleep off that hangover." He hung up.

After clearing her stomach in the toilet, Maureen covered her head with a pillow and collapsed back into bed. When she awoke the next day, it was evening, and she felt revitalized and bored out of her mind. She called the number scribbled on her hand and asked Joanne if she wanted to go to a movie. Joanne was a bit surprised because she had not expected to hear from Maureen again, but she had already come home from work, so she agreed.

Maureen showered, got ready, and grabbed a handful of the little money she had left from her last job. She had been fired from a greasy diner the week before for flirting with her manager's husband.

Maureen met Joanne at the theater and they entered together. The movie quickly lost Maureen's attention, and by the time it was over, she only remembered that it was vaguely overdramatic and poorly filmed.

By now it was the middle of the night. Joanne looked at some of the skinheads congregating around alley dumpsters. "I don't want you to have to walk home alone this late," Joanne said, "I'll walk you home."

"But then _you'll_ have to get home alone. Why don't you just spend the night with me?" Maureen asked slyly.

Joanne blushed. "I have work in the morning. You can stay with me tonight, if you want."

Maureen nodded and Joanne caught a cab. She spent the whole ride home hoping that Maureen was too tired to think of anything but sleeping; she had only just met her, for heaven's sake!

Joanne unlocked her apartment and Maureen's first impression of the inside was that Joanne must be obsessive compulsive. Everything was perfectly organized and put up. Maureen had a sudden urge to clutter something up, if only enough to make it look human.

"You can sleep there," Joanne said firmly, gesturing to a couch. Maureen looked a bit surprised but said nothing. "Food's in the fridge if you get hungry. I'm going to bed. If I'm gone when you wake up tomorrow, feel free to do what you want."

Joanne hurried off, as if she were afraid that otherwise she would succumb to temptation. Maureen laid down on the couch, grimacing when she found that it was only half as comfortable as it looked. It hadn't looked very comfortable to begin with. She flicked on the TV and watched late night sitcoms for a while until she fell asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

I am very sorry for my long absence, and I wish I had a good excuse, but I really don't. I've just been working on other, non-fanfiction related stories as of late. Either way, I just want you to know that I haven't fallen off the face of the earth or died or anything. I'll try to get this updated more often! (If I start letting the story hanging again, just bug me until I update. lol)

**ElphieGirl85**: Don't you just love dramatic irony? )

**GorgeousSmile**: I hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

**The Girl of Many Fandoms**: Actually, I have several friends who call me Honeybear. And I love your UserID, by the way.

**madame de lioncourt**: This chapter borders on 'steamy'. And it was definitely fun to write. Haha.

**spqtchick1216**: I'm holding you to that sundae, you know.

**Disclaimer:** You know the drill. I don't own Maureen, Joanne, Roger, Mark, NYC, yadda, yadda, yadda.

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When Maureen woke up, Joanne was long gone. She raided the kitchen for breakfast, but, when she saw that tofu was the main component of the refrigerator, she decided to just head home.

Despite Joanne's continuing reluctance, Maureen saw her more and more often over the next couple of months. There wasn't a week that went by without them catching a movie or going out to eat. Although it hadn't been stated officially, the two were dating. It was almost a normal relationship despite the extreme personality differences. Joanne kept telling herself that Maureen's total disregard for organization was endearing. The only real problem was Mark. Of course, as astute as she was, Joanne had not realized that Maureen had another lover. Maureen intended to keep it that way.

Only weeks later, Joanne finally relented and allowed Maureen to move into her apartment with her. The two women, living in such close quarters, found themselves beginning to change, little by little. Joanne, who very much enjoyed turning in before nine o'clock, had changed her sleeping schedule to more suit Maureen's when she realized that she enjoyed sex with Maureen even more. Now, it was much closer to midnight when she got into bed, and the wee hours of the morning before she fell asleep. While this made her more tired at the law firm, her quality of work did not slip because she was infinitely happier.

Maureen was also changing, though very little. Joanne refused to get into bed with her until she had read for at least ten minutes. Otherwise, she said, she wouldn't be able to fall asleep. So, every evening, Joanne curled up in her armchair with a nonfiction novel and withstood every single one of Maureen's attempts of seduction. Maureen tried everything from jumping on Joanne's lap, (Joanne simply pulled the book out from under Maureen's ass and continued reading) coyly promising to tire Joanne more sufficiently than a crummy old book, (Joanne crooked an eyebrow without her eyes ever leaving the typed page) to parading around the room naked. (This distracted Joanne, but in her defense, it was only for a moment)

Finally, Maureen was reduced to pouting. When she got sick of that, she decided to fight fire with fire, and she visited a nearby library and checked out racy lesbian romance novels.

While they both read in the living room, Maureen was sure to make loud comments about how she wished Joanne were as creative in bed as the characters in the stories.

Maureen also learned to gauge how eager Joanne was by watching how long she read. It was never less than ten minutes, but if she only perused her tomes for ten minutes, two seconds, she was ready for some action. If it was much over ten minutes, Maureen knew that either this particular biography of John Quincy Adams was scintillating, or Joanne wasn't really in the mood.

Joanne, however, never paid nearly as much attention to her books as Maureen believed. Instead, she watched her girlfriend fidgeting out of the corner of her eye. Maureen could never be completely still, and Joanne loved watching her pretend to be absorbed in the X-rated book she was holding. She kept continually turning them in and checking out new ones, as though in an attempt to fool Joanne into thinking she was actually reading them, even though Joanne suspected she hadn't actually read more than a few pages from each, if that.

Joanne also wondered why those friends of Maureen's, Mark and Roger, hadn't been mentioned again after they started dating. She asked Maureen about them one day and Maureen vaguely answered that they were on vacation "somewhere". Joanne had asked if they were gay, knowing full well they weren't, and Maureen, looking as if she wished she had thought of that excuse herself said, "Yeah. Sure. They're gay."

Meanwhile, Mark, who was so accustomed to Maureen practically living at his, Roger's, and Collin's flat that he often wondered why she had moved out in the first place. Her increasing absence was causing him to become very suspicious. However, Maureen was a very difficult girl to question. She always managed to slip out of ever really answering anything. Mark knew something was going on, but he had no idea what it could be.

This all changed one cold November evening.


	5. Chapter 5

Update time! This one goes out to all my lovely reviewers. I love you guys! I'm sorry this chapter is so bloody depressing, but it had to happen sooner or later.

**Disclaimer:** I still don't own.

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Mark, feeling a bit lonely since Roger had headed to the roof once more for an evening of attempted song writing and Collins wasn't due home till right around Christmas, had opted for an evening at the movies. He cobbled together all the loose change he could find and headed for the local theater. He picked a movie at random, just wanting something to keep him occupied for a while. He walked in right as the movie was starting and the lights were already off. He could, though, make out that the theater was nearly empty except for a group of loud teenagers behind him, a few scattered adults, and two ladies some rows in front of him. He paid little attention to the movie, choosing instead to think about his newest film. He was also getting a little annoyed with the ladies in front of him. They hadn't been quiet through the whole thing and were now kissing very passionately. Mark glanced at them again and it seemed that the back of one of those heads looked oddly familiar…

When the movie was over and the lights came on, Mark realized that he had been right. The curly brown head belonged to none other than Maureen Johnson. She was once again locked at the lips with her companion, a girl with short, tightly curled dark hair. Maureen had yet to see him, but he was going to make sure that she did.

"Um. Maureen?" he said, more quietly than he had expected.

Maureen continued to kiss the girl, so Mark spoke up. "Maureen!"

It was almost comic how Maureen stiffened in surprise and turned with a guilty face.

"Hi…Mark," she said.

"Who's this?" Mark asked just as Joanne had opened her mouth to say the same thing.

"Um," Maureen said awkwardly, "Mark, this is Joanne. Joanne, this is Mark."

Both of them stared at Maureen, waiting for an explanation.

"Mark, there's something I should tell you," Maureen said.

"Obviously."

"I've been meaning to tell you, but I just…well, it just…kept slipping my mind."

"Uh _huh_," Mark said incredulously.

"Joanne and I are dating."

Mark, even though he had expected as much after he saw them kissing, still felt punched in the stomach. After a moment of silence, his surprise and pain turned to anger.

"Maureen Johnson, you cheating little--How could you--?" he sputtered.

"Mark. It's over," Maureen said firmly and she led Joanne away.

Mark seethed. He had caught her cheating, and he didn't even get the pleasure of dumping her? His only satisfaction came from the look Joanne had been giving Maureen while being dragged away. He suspected, well, he hoped, that that relationship wouldn't last long.

Mark sullenly slammed the sliding door to the loft and collapsed on the couch, arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

Roger, who was making coffee in the kitchen, turned around. "What's wrong?" he asked.

"Nothing," Mark said angrily.

"Mark, don't do that. I've only seen you this mad, well…never. Something's wrong."

Mark, wishing Roger would just mind his own business, told him anyway. "Maureen dumped me."

"Whoa," Roger said. He wasn't much surprised though; he had seen it coming days ago.

"Yeah. I caught her kissing someone else at the movies," Mark said.

"Who?" Roger asked, unable to contain his curiosity.

"Some girl named Joanne."

Roger almost laughed but held it in at the last moment.

"And then she dumped me. I was just about to dump her, but as usual, she won," Mark, so reluctant to tell at first, found that it was rather cathartic.

"Well, she _is_ a bit of a whore. You're probably better off without her," Roger said, trying to cheer him up.

"Don't talk about her like that!" Mark said angrily.

"Mark. She dumped you."

"I know, but…" Mark let his reasoning hang. "I'm going to bed." _Without my Maureen_, he thought sadly to himself.

Meanwhile, Maureen was having troubles of her own.

"You mean, this whole time you've been dating me, you were dating him too?!" Joanne yelled, "I can't believe this!"

"Pookie!" Maureen said pleadingly, grabbing Joanne by the arms in her apartment after a silent cab ride where you could almost hear the tension sizzling. "I'm sorry! Really, really sorry! After I met you, I fell in love with you. I don't love Mark anymore!"

Joanne was caught off guard; Maureen had never said she loved her before, at least, not seriously. But she regained her anger quickly. "Love isn't a toy! You can't just get bored and get a new one. Love, true love, lasts forever."

"And now I know that I didn't truly love Mark. You're the first person I've truly loved," Maureen said.

"Don't give me that bullshit. You probably tell all sixty-seven of your lovers that."

"I made a mistake!" Maureen said, starting to cry, "But I won't any more. Just don't leave me. Please?"

Joanne couldn't stand to see her cry, and she hated herself for causing her to. She also hated herself for giving into her. "Maureen, baby, don't cry. Just…just promise to be honest with me from now on. Okay?"

Maureen nodded, eyes still streaming and nose running. Joanne grabbed a tissue and cleaned her face up for her. Maureen hugged her tight and Joanne kissed her head. They moved over to the bed, and although the sex still felt good, both women got the feeling that they had only put a temporary cap on the argument.

In the days that followed, it seemed that they had been right. Fights were regular occurrences now, and whatever the dispute, they both knew that they were still fighting over Maureen's dishonesty. Even when they weren't arguing, their anger was as volatile as a volcano.

Roger and Benny were beginning to be brought down by Mark's constant frown and emotions easily sparked, like a sore that hurt all over again when touched. Both of them found themselves the unwarranted victims of his anger over the next couple of weeks, and they began to wish that, like Collins, they didn't have to be there.

"Who moved my camera?" Mark shouted one morning on finding his camera on the kitchen table instead of the couch where he left it.

Roger walked in. "Oh, sorry, I slept on the couch last night, and I just moved it over there."

"You could have broken it! You should have asked me before touching it!"

"Mark. Calm down, man. I was careful. It isn't like I was playing tennis with it or anything," Roger said, doing his best from letting this escalate into another full-out confrontation.

"The hell you weren't!"

"Mark! You've been moodier than a pregnant woman lately. Look, I know you're upset about Maureen, but you've got to move on."

"Oh, but you're allowed to mope about April all you want, aren't you, Roger?" Mark realized he had gone too far just as the words came out of his mouth. He immediately backed down. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean--" But it was too late.

For a moment, Roger looked like he was going to just break Mark's skinny body, but he chose instead to grab his coat. "That's it. I've had it with you, Mark," he said and slammed the door to the loft.

Mark sighed and kicked the couch, clutching his foot a moment later while he muttered curses and did a crazy hop around the room.


	6. Chapter 6

Never fear, readers! The authoress has returned! And with the last chapter, too!

**Disclaimer:** Last time I checked, I still didn't own Rent.

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Mark waited for Roger to come back for a while, and when it started to get dark, he watched one of his films. It was one that he had shot in Central Park when he, Roger, and Maureen spent a day there. Every time Maureen showed up on screen, his heart hurt and he wanted to cry. Just as the movie cut to a clip of her doing cartwheels through the grass, someone knocked on the door.

Mark sighed in relief, glad that Roger was back, and went to open the door. Outside stood not Roger, but a very sheepish Maureen.

"Hi, Mark," she said quietly, "I, uh, came to get my stuff?"

Mark looked at her stupidly.

"Mark?" she asked.

Mark shook his head. "Oh. Your stuff. Yeah, go ahead." Somehow seeing her in person completely dispelled his recent anger. He quickly turned off the projector so she wouldn't see what he had been watching.

Ten minutes later she came back out with a box of her things.

"This is everything," she reported, "Bye, I guess."

"Yeah. Bye." And before he knew what he was doing, he was kissing her and she was kissing him, and her fingers were running through his hair like they used to, and the corner he had backed her into was all that was keeping them up. He felt for her waist, and his fingers deftly found the bottom of her shirt and slid underneath it. He broke their kiss for a moment so he could pull the shirt over her head, and the break in contact seemed to bring Maureen back to her senses.

"Oh my God," she breathed, "Mark I can't do this. I promised! I have to go!" she grabbed her shirt and ran out the door, leaving her box behind.

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"Did you get your stuff from Mark's?" Joanne asked without looking up as soon as Maureen walked through the door. She was standing in the kitchen, preparing pasta.

Maureen realized that she didn't have her belongings. _Shit_, she thought. "Yeah, it's out in the car," she lied.

Joanne looked up from her cookbook. "I'm making Rigatoni, your favori—What the hell?!" she yelled, dropping a whole tomato in the pot.

"What?" Maureen asked, her girlfriend's tone making her frantic.

"Mark gave you a whole lot more than just your stuff, didn't he!"

_How does she know?_, Maureen asked herself wildly. "What are you talking about, Pookie?" she asked as calmly and innocently as she could.

"Don't you dare call me that. I trusted you! And you show up here with your lipstick smudged all over your face and your shirt on inside out. Maureen, this is the last straw. I'm leaving."

"Pookie! No, please, don't!" Maureen begged, already in tears.

"You're right. I won't. This is my house. _You're_ leaving," Joanne said icily.

"Joanne, let me explain!"

"Go ahead."

Maureen gaped. She hadn't expected a chance to explain and now that she had one, she wasn't sure what to do with it. "Well, uh..."

"Yes?" Joanne asked, tapping her foot and looking mad as a bull.

"I went over to Mark's and grabbed my stuff, and as I was leaving, he sort of grabbed me and...kissed me...and pulled off my shirt. But I remembered my promise, and I made him stop! I didn't ask for this, Jo."

"Maureen, what possible reason could I have to believe you? You've lied to me before," Joanne said.

"I know, and I'm sorry. This time I'm not lying. I love you."

"Those words can't make everything better."

"Listen to me, Pookie. I swear that that's how it happened. Please believe me. Look, I'll make _you_ dinner, for a change," Maureen said.

"Wash your face," Joanne said disgustedly, deciding to withhold judgment for the moment.

After Maureen had cleaned herself up and come back downstairs, Joanne was sitting at the table, reading the paper. She didn't even look up when her girlfriend walked in. Maureen decided she preferred being yelled at to being ignored. She prepared the dinner, albeit with complaints and a burnt finger. She set the table and poured some red wine.

Joanne ate her food without compliment, complaint, or even comment. The only conversation came from Maureen's side.

"Hey, Pookie?"

No response.

"My protest is coming up, and I was having a little trouble with making the samples delay...Can you go over there tomorrow and look at it?"

No response.

"Fine," Maureen huffed, "I'll call Mark."

Joanne scowled a little at her supper but still said nothing and had barely finished her first glass of wine when Maureen was starting on glass five.

After supper Joanne went to sit in the living room and watch the news. Maureen, more than a little zonked, followed her into the den without even cleaning up the kitchen.

"Baby, I'm horny," she said seductively, as though her drunken state had allowed her to forget about the fight.

Joanne glared at her.

"Take me, baby. Take me now!" Maureen purred, pulling off her shirt slowly like a striptease.

"Are you serious?" Joanne asked harshly.

"Yes, Sexy. Take me now," Maureen smiled and paused. "Or leave me."

"Right now I'm not going to do either," Joanne said stiffly, "but that second possibility could be very likely."

"You have the sex drive of a meatball," grumbled Maureen and she went down the hallway for an early bed.

Maureen always snored after getting drunk, and it was just as Joanne heard her doing so that the phone rang.

She picked it up. "Hello?" she said.

"Maureen?" came the timid voice of Mark.

For a moment Joanne was about to tell him to piss off, but then she realized that pretending to be Maureen could have its advantages. For one, she could get to the bottom of what had happened between the two that afternoon.

"Yes, Marky?" she asked, making her voice a tad higher and adding a fair impression of Maureen's audible pout.

"Look," Mark said, obviously falling for it, "I'm sorry about this afternoon."

"What do you mean?" asked Joanne, as she struggled to keep her voice calm.

"I shouldn't have kissed you like that. I knew you didn't want it, I just couldn't help myself. I've missed you a lot, you know. Anyway, I hope you can forgive me and I hope that Joanne didn't find out about it."

"She didn't," Joanne said, "Thanks for apologizing. Bye, Mark."

Joanne hung up the phone and felt like kicking herself. She should've believed Maureen. She hurried down the hall and shook her girlfriend awake.

"Wha?" Maureen asked sleepily, "What happened?"

"Nothing bad," Joanne told her with a smile.

"Forgiven me?" Maureen asked.

Joanne kissed her forehead. "There was nothing to forgive."

"Then will you run by the Lot tomorrow and see if you can fix the samples?" Maureen asked.

"Sure, but don't you _dare_ call Mark when I can't do it," Joanne said with a grin.

Maureen giggled and nodded. "Cross my heart." Her eyes glinted and she looked her girlfriend up and down. "Hey, Jo?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm still horny."

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**THE END.** After all, we all know what happens after that. :D Review, guys, and I'll love you undyingly.


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